n to do as she chose. The case looked black against
her. Well, she had had her lesson, and in _that_ quarter could come to
no more harm. What sort of an appearance was she likely to make at
Prince's Hall today?--feather-headed fool!

Before five o'clock the sunlight streamed into his bedroom. Sparrows
twittered about the window, and somewhere close by, perhaps in a
neighbour's flat, a caged throstle piped as though it were in the
fields. Then began the street noises, and Hugh could lie still no
longer. Remembering that at any moment his freedom might come to an
end, he applied himself to arranging certain important matters. The
housemaid came upon him with surprise; he bade her get breakfast, and,
when the meal was ready, partook of it with moderate appetite.

The postman brought letters; nothing of interest for him, and for Sibyl
only an envelope which, as one could feel, contained a mere card of
invitation. But soon after nine o'clock there arrived a telegram. It
was from Sibyl herself, and--from Weymouth.

'Why are you not here? She died yesterday. If this reaches you, reply
at once.'

He flung the scrap of paper aside and laughed. Of all natural
explanations, this, of course, had never occurred to him. Yesterday's
telegram told of Mrs. Larkfield's serious condition, and Sibyl had
started at once for Weymouth, expecting to meet him there. One word of
hers to the servant and he would simply have followed her. But Sibyl
saw no necessity for that word. She was always reserved with domestics.

By the messenger, he despatched a reply. He would be at Weymouth as
soon as possible.

He incurred the risk of appearing to run away; but that mattered
little. Sibyl could hardly return before her mother's burial, and by
going yonder to see her he escaped the worse danger, probably the
certainty, of arrest before any possible meeting with her in London.
Dreading this more than ever, he made ready in a few minutes; the
telegraph boy had hardly left the building before Hugh followed. A
glance at the timetables had shown him that, if he travelled by the
Great-Western, he could reach Weymouth at five minutes past four;
whereas the first train he could catch at Waterloo would not bring him
to his destination until half an hour later; on the other hand, he
could get away from London by the South-Western forty minutes sooner
than by the other line, and this decided him. Yesterday, Waterloo had
been merely the more convenient statio